Mama
by ejzah
Summary: One-shot following the running sneak peek for "Party Crashers". Deeks has a chat with Roberta. Possible spoilers for "Party Crashers".


A/N: This is a little one-shot I threw together in anticipation of the season 9 premiere, _Party Crashers._ I really like scenes between Deeks and his mother so this follows sometime after the sneak peek where Kensi and Deeks are running. Also I really love how ECO says Mama, 'cause I'm a weirdo. I hope I found the right balance between Mama Deeks' craziness and obvious love for her son. Apologies if this is a little all over the place.

Possible spoiler if you haven't watched any of the previews for _Party Crashers_.

* * *

Mama

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Kensi asks, suddenly feeling uncertain despite all her pushing for this exact outcome.

"Yeah," Deeks says after a moment of consideration. He nods towards his mom's house, just visible through the rain-splattered windshield of the car. "You were right; I should tell her and the longer I wait the bigger chance there is that she'll hear it from someone else."

"Do you really think she's going to be unbearable?" she asks. Deeks has been adamant that their two moms coming together, presenting a united front on the topic of wedding planning is likely to be horrific. Silently Kensi agrees wholeheartedly. It was bad enough when Roberta and Julia had decided she needed their constant assistance so she can only imagine wedding planning will be even worse. Still, leaving either one out isn't really an option.

Deeks snorts and ruffles his hair a little as he thinks. His hair is starting to curl around the edges, still slightly damp from their dash from front door to car. She reaches out and smooths a few unruly pieces down, earning a knowing look from Deeks and a smile of thanks.

"I think if I lead in the right way, I can stop her from going full-on monster-in-law but eventually she's probably going to be showing up at our house every other day with color swatches and cake samples."

"I like cake," is her only comment. Deeks laugh-snorts, his expression what she can only describe as adoring as he snakes a hand around her neck and pulls her against him for a brief kiss.

"I can still come with you," she offers. "Roberta does loves me after all and it might take some of the pressure off you."

"Nah, she'll take it better if it's just me for now. Ok, I'm going before I chicken out," he announces around a deep breath and opens the passenger door. Before getting out he adds, "If you don't hear from me in an hour, assume mom's taken me captive for tux sizing and bring reinforcements."

Kensi watches him sprint to the door, ring the doorbell and shake his head in a distinctly canine manner. Her heart swells with something that feels remarkably like contentment.

* * *

"Martin, you didn't say you were coming over. Is something wrong?" Roberta Deeks asks as she ushers him through the door and hands him the kitchen towel she'd been conveniently holding, the smell of beef stew accompanying his entrance.

"No Mama, nothing's wrong," he assures her calmly, hoping a steady voice will transfer to his mother and prevent the freak-out he suspects is coming. "There's just something I needed to tell you–"

"You and Kensi are pregnant, aren't you?" Roberta interrupts excitedly, a knowing expression lighting her face.

"No mom, no…we're not pregnant," he assures her before things can get too out of hand. Deeks rolls his eyes, knowing he should have expected this. His mom has brought up grandchildren and her ever increasing age no less than eight times in the past six months alone.

"Oh," she says, her gaze falling in disappointment. "Then what's so important that you show up here without a call at seven o'clock on a Wednesday night?"

"Kensi and I are engaged," he says quietly, cutting right to the chase. Roberta's mouth falls open in a little "o" of surprise and then she's pulling him tight into a tight hug with a strength that defies her small frame. Deeks wraps his arms around her in return, feeling himself grin at his mom's enthusiasm.

"Oh my lord, I've been praying for this for so long," she says. Then quickly leading Deeks the rest of the way into the living room, she pushes him onto the couch while she wipes at tears the tears that had instantly appeared with his announcement and asks, "When did you ask? I had no idea you even bought a ring." Deeks scratches at his jaw, makes a quick swipe through his hair and blows out a long breath in preparation.

"I actually bought the ring last year and we got engaged a few months ago," he says. He watches Roberta's face go from excitement to slight confusion and then edge into irritation.

"Why'd you wait so long to tell me?" she asks, voice rising slightly. "And why do you look as guilty as the time I found you with a pocketful of chewing tobacco?" Deeks rolls his eyes.

"Because of this. I didn't want you to overreact like you are right now." Standing, Roberta rises to all of her 5 foot 5 inches and fixes him with her most piercing gaze.

"I am not overreacting, Martin. You will know when I am overreacting and this is not it." Adopting a dignified stance, she pulls the two sides of her sweater together and carefully sits back down.

"Mom, if I had told you three months ago, you would have been all over Kensi with caterers and florists. For the last two years you've sent us the number of a different minister or justice of the peace every month," he points out, letting a hint of exasperation through. Roberta chuckles, rolling her eyes at Deeks as though he's said something particularly ridiculous, her good humor once more restored.

"Oh honey, that's gonna happen no matter what you do or how long you waited to tell me. It's what mom's do when their babies get married."

"So you're not mad?" he asks, sure that this is way too easy. Grabbing his chin with the tips of her fingers, Roberta gives it a little shake, her expression now indulgent.

"I thought about it, but what's the point," she says with a small shrug. "I know now and it's not like you two are getting married tomorrow, right?" Roberta pauses for confirmation and Deeks nods.

"Definitely not getting married yet. We actually only told everybody else in the last couple weeks."

"Good. Then there's still plenty of time to plan everything, get a good venue, flowers, DJ…"

"Mama, we're not–" he attempts to interrupt but she's on a roll now and he sees that his efforts to prevent her going hog wild are useless. They should have totally eloped when they had the chance.

"Do something about your hair," Roberta continues, fingering an errant piece of his hair with distaste.

"Ok, my hair is definitely out of the question," he states firmly and very seriously.

"Martin, it's getting just a bit too long,"

"You've been saying that for the last fifteen years," he reminds her.

"And your wedding would the perfect time to listen to me," Roberta continues to wheedle. It's an argument they've had countless times and one of the few things Deeks continues to stand absolutely firm on.

"Can we talk about something else? Anything else," Deeks practically begs.

"You want to talk about sex," Roberta jokes. At least Deeks hopes she's joking, it's not a given though since she has felt the need to give tips on that particular topic before.

"God, no."

"Alright. Let me ask you this then, are you still afraid of becoming like your father?" Neither of them moves for a moment as Deeks digests the question and Roberta wait expectantly.

"Mom, I didn't come here tonight to talk about that," he says quietly. Roberta raises her hands and drops them back down to her knees with a loud smack.

"Well, this as good a time as any! You're getting married and I just think now would be a wonderful time to settle this once and for all," she says in exasperation.

"I know I'm not Dad," he allows, hoping it will be enough to end the topic. Predictably, Roberta snorts loudly.

"Maybe that's true but you still worry about it and that's not the kind of thing you need to bring into a marriage. You deserve to live without that kind of burden, both of you. And maybe I'm shouting into the wind here, but you need to put this behind you for good." Deeks swallows audibly, working to push down the tears suddenly burning his eyes and whispers,

"You make it sound easy." Roberta smiles a little sadly.

"I know it isn't, Sweetie. Believe me, I know. But you have to at least try." He nods as Roberta cups his chin and gazes at him with so much love that he can't stop a couple tears from slipping out. "I am so proud of the man you've become," she murmurs.

"I love you, Mama," he returns, pulling her in for a hug which is returned with gusto. The number of times he has willingly discussed his father probably wouldn't fill up one hand, but he knows that his mom means well and he also knows she's right. Eventually he'll have to confront the residual fear the always resides within him. Right now though, reassuring Roberta will have to be good enough.

"I'm so happy for you," she whispers after a good few minutes of hugging, tears shining in her eyes again.

"Me too," he says, grinning slightly at how easily his mother can switch between topics and emotions without pause. Roberta squeezes him one final time and then pushes back with a sigh of completion.

"Alrighty then, now that's out of the way. I've got a big old pot of stew in the kitchen, I can warm it up and you can tell me exactly what you said in your proposal," she says, getting to her feet and heading towards the kitchen.

"Uh, Kensi's actually waiting in the car so I should probably…"

"Even better, bring her in," Roberta say, not to be deterred in her mission. "There's plenty of stew and I can show Kensi these lovely velvet roses you can make by hand. I've been saving pins for months, know I can finally show them to her." Her voice fades slightly as she enters the kitchen and Deeks idly considers their chances of escaping unnoticed.

"Oh, and I read in _Vogue_ that gray is the 'it' color for weddings this year," Roberta shouts from the kitchen. Deeks chuckles while he opens the front door and motions for Kensi to come in. They are so screwed.


End file.
